But I Found You, To My Surprise
by WhereIsYourHeart10
Summary: "Because you simply have to accept that Draco Malfoy, of all people, is now your best bet for freedom. You hope with all that is in you that you aren't wrong." Rated M just because I'm paranoid.


**So this randomly came to me a week or so ago, and I have no idea what inspired it- I don't normally like to try to write HP fics! But this is my first one on here, and it's basically a long one-shot. If I keep this going (according to how the audience responds) I will upload more one-shots, but they will all tie-in together as one story. So, let me know by reviewing! Thanks :)**

**(Also, there is no romance currently here- but perhaps a budding one? If the story keeps going, that is. )**

* * *

Your head pounds. Your joints and muscles ache with the fatigue that only comes from torture. You can't begin to imagine where you are. Because every time you wake up, they've placed you in another foul place. A cell, but not a normal cell. A dream, or a memory you once had, and the worst possible ones at that, but you're stuck. Until your captors again come in, torturing you for information.

You can't wake yourself up unless they want you to.

They want to know where your best friend is, _always_. And sometimes they want to use you as a test subject for their newer and more dangerous spells. The only reason you've probably stayed alive this long is because your emotions have begun to shut down. You stopped crying not long after you were captured. A week, a few days, you have no idea. But your tears didn't flow. You barely even whimpered anymore.

Occasionally you would be stuck with the leader himself. Voldemort would _Crucio _you, always without your blind fold that the others preferred. Something about the way he wanted to see the pain in your eyes. But he'd stopped coming as often- your eyes were dead now. Lifeless.

You hadn't spoken a word since the time you asked the traitorous Wormtail for a drink. He'd almost got you one, but then Lucius cast some wordless spell that took away thirst and hunger, but left you just on the verge. Not quite satisfied, but not dying (from that anyway).

You knew that you would probably die soon anyhow. You had always heard the stories of the animals that don't fight to live, who give up eventually; they were the ones that died sooner.

_Would your best friend had given up this soon? Would he have silently begged for death- or even screamed for it sometimes? Or would he have continued to try to fight his way out?_

Of course you knew that he had always been more skilled in magic. He would have found a way out of this hell if anyone could.

Then, you suddenly realize that you are awake- and no one is torturing you. No one is sending deadly thoughts into your head, no one is making you bow for hours, no one is dressing you up like their favorite girl and touching you, making you do... terrible things.

First, you test your bindings. They are still firmly in place. An iron set of chains, attached to the headboard of the cold cot that's become your home. You knew that if enchantments hadn't been placed on it, it would reek of your personal effects. After all, they wouldn't let you leave to use the restroom.

You couldn't open your eyes yet- the charm was still on them. But you were fully awake now, and fully aware. You subtly moved yourself less than an inch, closer to your bindings. You might be able to work them open-

"Hermione!" a voice screams to you. Then suddenly you feel hands on you, touching you everywhere, shaking you awake. "Wake up, please! Merlin, I need your help to get out of here, Granger!"

_Oh, it's only a dream_, you think. _A fake memory again, of rescue... by Draco Malfoy? Who else calls me Granger?_

Then you realize that this dream feels so very vivid. The hands aren't gruff or forceful, but calm and light- as if they were checking every inch of you. No doubt whoever it was could see all your bruises. But it was only a dream, so why did it matter?

Then you hear someone mumbling underneath their breath. "Damn it all to hell, they've cursed her beyond recognition." Then a sigh, and a feather-light touch to your left cheek. "I'm so sorry," comes out in whispered, guilty tones. "I should have stood up to him. Fought for the right side- fought for you."

You can hear every word, and you register in the back of your mind that if you were awake you would feel extremely guilty for listening to the obviously private thoughts.

And then the strangest thing happens. The voice, dream-Draco you've decided, says, "Shit, they've bound you with cursed handcuffs! ...Okay, hold on a bit."

Then the iron around your wrists, that have become like another part of your skin, are sliding off, and then your eyes don't feel like they are being weighed down with bricks. You're coughing, because the pulling of the chains brush against the raw rings they caused around your wrists, and you don't want to cry out.

Maybe you aren't dreaming, because this feels too real. _So it's a new tactic they're going to use on me. Make me feel safe, make me feel hope, make me feel free. And then cruelly take it from my hands. _

So you steel yourself. Get ready for whatever comes next. An attack, a perverted touch. But instead the fake-Draco says, "Open your eyes now. I know you're awake."

You open your eyes. You'd like to get this over with. And before you is the perfect image of Draco Malfoy. Right down to his slicked blonde hair, though at the moment its falling haphazardly into his eyes. You sigh, even though you never intended to make a noise.

He looks at you expectantly, like you're supposed to be doing something. Perhaps he wants you to beg. Or scream this time.

But you don't move, and he asks, "Hermione? Why aren't you getting up?"

You just look away, and then he rushes closer, both his hands on the sides of your face, forcing your eyes to focus on his. "What the hell is wrong with you? We don't have much time you know! I was just barely able to get in here; it won't be long before they notice my father isn't really my father."

It was all jumbles of nonsense to you; you had no idea what the fake-Draco was talking about. _Something to distract me? This is getting too weird, even for the Death Eaters._

So you decide to speak up.

"I know..." your voice catches because you haven't spoken in what could be weeks- "...that you aren't real. So, please, just start hurting me. I want to sleep again."

The fake-Draco gasps, then looks at you as if you are insane. Which you probably are.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, Granger? Merlin, they've messed with your head, haven't they? Damn it all."

He pulls out his wand, mumbles a spell under his breath, and then suddenly your head is clearer. The pain that made you foggy is nearly gone. You look down at your hands, which are free, and notice that the angry red of the abrasions on your wrists aren't as terrible. Your bruises have faded to ugly yellows and greens now, all over your body. You haven't seen yourself this way in a while, because nothing could heal when you were repeatedly hurt, without ceasing.

"I... what is this?" you manage.

"I'm getting you out of here, now get up!" he tries to gently tug at your arm, but now you put up a fight, not budging from your spot.

"You're not... not Draco. Stop this. This is the cruelest yet," you fire out, but your voice is soft.

"Fuck, I am too Draco... Shall I prove it to you, yeah?" And then he gets up from his spot where he had been kneeling before you, and then coughs, seeming to be embarrassed.

"You might remember this from our fourth year. I hope."

And then he turns himself into a ferret.

For nearly a minute you sit there with your mouth agape, no doubt looking more foolish than the ferret who is running around in playful circles in front of you. You look around, trying to make sure this isn't a dream again.

But no, you are in the damp, stone cellar they first locked you in. Where you'd been all along, apparently. And then the ferret is Draco again, and then you are jumping up and grabbing him into your arms ferociously.

Between muffled cries, you hear, "Well, Granger, I know I'm adorable and everything, but shouldn't I continue to breath?" in that completely _Draco Malfoy_ way.

"My god... I... It's really you then?" you stutter out.

"Bloody hell, are you daft now too?" he asks rudely, but the rudeness doesn't touch his eyes. You notice that the grey that you'd always secretly admired is now softer somehow, and completely determined.

Then he smiles a crooked grin, and its not nasty at all... So you think again of how he might not really be Draco. You walk towards him, your face calmly revealing nothing. And then before he can notice your eyes sweeping over his frame, you have wrenched his wand from his back pocket.

"The minute I'm free from this fucking hell hole, I'll give this back to you. So if you aren't really my rescue, you might want to confess immediately. Because I know spells that would make your mother weep," you growl out.

His face is nothing but surprised, but he manages to recover quite quickly. He takes a step towards you, but then the look on your face apparently warns him off, because he holds his hands out in front of him.

"I have no idea how else to prove it to you," he states, obviously tired with the situation, but underneath that you detect a sense of urgency.

And that's what makes you give pause to not immediately torturing him on the spot. So instead you _Accio_ the closest _Veritaserum_ to your hand. And you know it isn't located far, because they'd tried it on you before- it was unuseful to them, seeing as you actually didn't know where Harry or Ron were.

You had told them the place that your trio had next been planning to go, but your friends had been wise enough to change their plans. They'd moved on to other suspected locations of Horcruxes. And you had confidence in Harry. Perhaps a bit in Ron too.

"Drink this," you ordered. He sighed, but he gulped much more than needed down. "Ask away, oh master," he retorted sarcastically.

"Who are you?"

"Draco Malfoy."

"What did I do to you in our third year?"

"You punched me, I seem to recall. Took me off guard, I was completely unprepared to defend myself, so it wasn't fair at all," he grumbled.

And then, just under your breath, you whisper_, "Legilimens." _

Without warning you look into Draco Malfoy's mind. You silently send thanks to Harry for briefly teaching you about this spell- you'd never used it before, but you knew that it was stronger than truth serum or a polyjuice potion.

And all you can see is the years at Hogwarts through his mind. And then, being forced to take the Dark Mark. Practicing in the Room of Requirement. Facing Dumbledore in his final moments, and not being able to kill him, quivering and shaking at the idea. Watching his eyes become lifeless, and then wanting nothing more than to follow him yourself into the endless abyss of death. Long moments of time following with nothing but suicidal thoughts. No friends, no family. And then finally, completely by accident, happening upon Harry and Ron somewhere in Scotland, where you had gone to remove your Dark Mark. Forming an alliance of sorts, intent on rescuing _you. _

You pull away from his mind almost as quickly as you'd entered it. You notice that in the time you'd searched his thoughts, Draco had dropped to his knees, and a sheen of sweat had now covered his face. You bow your head in silent apology.

"I'm... sorry. I couldn't take the chance, risk everything- I've done all I could to protect them, you see. So I couldn't be sure," you finish lamely.

His face sweeps through multiple emotions, and you wouldn't be surprised if he just turned around now, leaving you here. Because that's what you'd come to expect, from him. But then no, he just shakes his head, and manages a gruff laugh of sorts. "Harry told me that felt weird. I guess I can agree with him now."

After he finishes speaking, he pulls his sleeve up wordlessly, showing you that he indeed no longer has the skull and snake that used to occupy the area.

You're mouth forms a small 'O' and you can only sigh. Crying would come later, when you could face all that you'd gone through alone. You've done everything you can think of to be sure that he is who he says he is. So you give him his wand, stepping closer, looking into his eyes. "Let's go," you say, and you mean it- but you also mean the silent contraction of "us" in the sentence. Because you simply have to accept that Draco Malfoy, of all people, is now your best bet for freedom.

You hope with all that is in you that you aren't wrong.


End file.
